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A Creative Solution	By : cristinstar Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 19002 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it just playing in JKR's sandbox. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
I know it has been several months since I last posted. For medical reasons, I had to take some time off from writing. And that was a HUGE MISTAKE! When I got past the "ordeal" and tried to get back to writing, I found myself with a roaring case of writer's block. I guess Draco was mad at me for ignoring him. Getting back in the groove was quite hard. I have made all my family and friends promise to NEVER let me go more than a couple of days without writing ever again!

Fortunately, just about the time I would convince myself that after all this time, nobody would still be interested in this story, someone would send me a PM of encouragement, or a new review would roll in. Those are really what kept me going, so here's a very special shout-out **THANK YOU!** to everyone of you that let me know how much you liked the story, and kept inspiring me not to give up!

The good news is that our favorite blonde finally quit pouting and started talking to me again, and with quite a BANG! This chapter is the longest one I've ever written, and rather than splitting it up, I thought I'd post it for you all, with my apology.

"We are doing this together," he explained with a smirk. "Or do you think you are an innocent bystander?"

Wide-eyed, she nodded. She hadn't even touched him with the hand he held to his face, and he was controlling the movement of her other hand.

His eyes smoldered as he moved his chair that much closer to her. "Is that so, Miss Granger?" His smirk was pure sin as he stalked her predatorily.

She nodded again, feeling completely off kilter as he tugged on their joined hands. Where was he going with this?

"Then who do you think did -- this?" As he spoke, he brought their hands to his crotch, using them to clasp around his sizable erection. Surprised, Hermione made a sound that was not quite a gasp nor a scream, zeroing her gaze on what their hands were framing.

Neither her mouth nor her eyes had ever been that wide open. She felt lightheaded from the speed with which her cheeks had reddened. Or was that because of Draco's unexpected move? In its wake, she felt her nipples furling, her core moistening. Her brain may have stalled, but her body certainly had not! If anything, sensations were magnified, sending her into overdrive.

His fingers pressed on her knuckles as he took her on a guided tour of his assets, ever so slowly up and down. And again. "I can't hide my reactions to you," he breathed, tightening the hold he had on her hand over his erection. "So it's only fair that you don't hide yours from me, right?"

Oh, sweet Nimue! She had to look away, but she did not, could not. She was touching -- she was grabbing onto -- he was big! Bigger? Huge! Flustered beyond her limits, Hermione tugged on her hands desperately. But Draco would not budge, pressing his verbal arguments as their entwined hands continued pressing the physical evidence. She had never, even in her wildest fantasies, imagined that she would go from confessing her feelings to Draco, to clenching him so intimately in a matter of hours. Panicked, her eyes followed the hand he had trapped against him, and then jolted upwards to meet his narrowed gaze when he gave her hands a warning squeeze. Had he asked her a question?

Sliding his hips forwards on the chair to give their hands more space to maneuver, he asked, "Don't you like knowing you're the one who's making me hard? Be honest now, Hermione."

Lust and embarrassment exploded within her when her brain processed his words. How could he ask her such a lewd question? She felt her heartbeat escalate until its echo resonated in her tingling skin, her reddened face, her pebbled nipples, her grasping sheath. Shocked, Hermione could not answer him. She had never heard anyone use such lascivious language in everyday conversation, much less to her face!

Frowning at her lack of response, he again made their interlaced fingers clench over his hardened member, upping the ante. In their shared grasp, they both felt when he jerked in reaction. He sucked in a breath as her eyes fell downwards to try and follow the movements his pants obscured.

Flooded by her previously untapped sexuality, Hermione struggled to decide whether she should act offended and pull her hand back, or give in to her desires and leisurely explore him.

"Feel that?" How could she not? Uncomfortable, she shifted, shaking her shoulders back. Each of her panted breaths made the lace on her bra abrade her nipples in a most delicious way, stimulating her. Wait - when had she started panting?

Clench. Jerk.

"Feel me?" His voice was dropping, becoming rougher and lower as their joined hands stimulated him. "Do you know what you did to me when we kissed?" Startled, she looked up at his face as he chuckled humorlessly. "I had to make the front of my trousers elastic before we left the cafe, or I would not have been able to walk at all!"

Clench. Jerk.

With all their clenching he seemed to be moving, swelling. His shaft was now jutting a full handspan away from his body, reaching towards her. My, those pants sure could stretch after his spell!

Clench. Jerk.

Their joined hands had shifted apart to accommodate his girth as he engorged with blood, so that only the tips of their fingers remained connected. Was he really getting bigger? Thicker? Hardening?

Clench. Jerk.

Her eyes zoomed from what their joined hands were doing, up to the boiling mercury of his eyes, and back down, unable to focus on anything. In a daze, she admitted to herself that she had small hands and little experience, but he felt bigger than any erection she had touched previously, from the bachelorette party toys to her ex-boyfriends'. And every time before, there had been plenty of warning before her hands found themselves tightly wrapped around such a package!

Clench. Jerk.

This couldn't be. He had grown since they started! Panicked, Hermione's brain could only babble regurgitated facts. The average length of an erect human penis was between five and six inches, she knew, and this certainly felt as if it measured on the upper end of the spectrum. A prick so big would hurt in any sexual experience, gagging and choking the breath out of her throat, even banging on her cervix. And she was not into masochism!

Lost in her panic, she did not realize Draco stopped their hands altogether when he sensed her anxiety. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply a couple of times, before fastening his gaze onto her frightened one.

"Can you imagine how each taste of you made me grow harder?" His voice percolated through her panic, but he might as well have been speaking gibberish. She could not make sense of his words as she tried to get enough air to kick start her brain, breathing faster and faster. Could he get harder than this? Was this normal? What was he going to do next? What was he expecting to happen next? She was completely out of her depth, her comfort zone.

Tightening his hold on her hands to get her attention, Draco gentled his tone when he spoke again. "Breathe with me, Hermione," he demanded. "Breathe in, and out," he instructed her until her heartbeat had slowed down somewhat. "Breathe in, and breathe out. Yes, that's it," he encouraged, "that's it, kitten."

But as soon as she'd begun calming down, he restarted their clenching rhythm once more!

Clench. Jerk. Deep breath.

Uncomfortable, she squirmed, wriggling on her chair in an attempt to regain her balance. She was surprised to discover that the surface of her seat was already slick with her moisture. This had never happened before to her, and now twice in one day! Had he noticed? She looked up quickly to ascertain whether he had any idea of what was happening to her, only to see him smirking with that infuriating eyebrow raised high.

"Deep breaths, Hermione," he reminded her.

Clench. Jerk. Deep breath.

Clench. Jerk. Deep breath.

How mortifying! For her seat to be this slippery, her knickers must be soaked through already. Why had she decided to wear a skirt today, of all days! It made sense, all in all. First lapping at her like he was devouring a popsicle, now using their hands to stimulate himself so shamelessly! Was it any wonder her body was excited?

Clench. Jerk. Deep breath.

Oh God, this explained it. Each time their hands clenched on his manhood together, her sheath spasmed in sympathetic reaction. Each time she felt him jolt, her answering throb made her leak.

Clench. Jerk. Deep breath.

"Feel what you do to me," he grated. The gravelly tone of his voice disrupted the breathing pattern they had set. Panting once more, she bit her lips and tightened her thighs together, in an attempt to both stem the flow and regain her senses.

Clench. Jerk.

His eyes were mesmerizing pools of shimmering intensity, drawing her further and further into a maelstrom of sensation. She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to clear it. Crossing one leg over the other, she reassured herself that she could break out of this passive state, and she would! She needed to decide if this escalation of sexual contact with Draco was what she wanted, no matter how decadent and voluptuously right it felt. Breathing deeply, she lectured herself on how she would reclaim control over her body, and then evaluate and analyze.

"No," Draco spat. "Look at me." She shook her head, keeping her eyes closed, afraid that the visuals would only contribute to the sexual haze. Draco's licks on her inner arm had been sensual, but this -- this had veered straight out of sensuality into overt sexuality in a split second.

Clench. Jerk.

"You want to hide your reactions to me?" Instead of reassuring her this time, he seemed to grow angry when Hermione refused to open her eyes or answer his questions. The hand that held hers tight to his manhood now moved upwards, dragging her hand up along the ridges of his shaft, then slowly downwards. The material had stretched thinly across him, so that her sensitized fingers felt every bump and crease of his erection. He seemed to be built to pleasure, if the advertising slogan for those ribbed condoms was true. Or was that the material bunching up under their hands?

Up. Clench. Jerk. Down.

"How is that fair, Miss Granger?" He made the honorific address sound like an insult.

When she would not answer, he shoved her crossed leg back over with his hand, none too gently. Once again she was sitting with his chair between her legs, yet he was now closer than before. Close enough to kiss, to breathe his intoxicating scent in, as she failed to regain her bearings.

Up. Clench. Jerk. Down.

"You want to stop your body from feeling what is natural, what is right, when we're together?" He was panting too, whether because of his anger at her actions, or because of the ongoing stimulation.

Up. Clench. Jerk. Down.

Seeing his face, with his drawn brow, fierce eyes, and lips pulled back, was more than Hermione's overloaded brain could handle. She squeezed her eyes closed.

"I don't... I don't know!" She stammered, trying to explain herself. Hermione shook her head rapidly again, trying to clear the frightening sexual fog wrapped around them. Frustrated, she clenched her jaw and her fists. When her nails scored the flesh of his hands, she felt him jerk again. Realizing she could be hurting him, she tried harder to pull her hands away.

"No," he growled, "don 't pull away. Feel me, Hermione." He said her name in a grating tone, as he matched actions to words, and clenched their hands once more over his taut length. She could feel the flared head of his cock thickening as the material dampened and dragged along with their hands.

Up. Clench. Jerk. Down.

"I don't want to hurt you," she protested, still trying to pull her hands away.

Up. Clench. Jerk. Down.

"Does this feel like you are hurting me?" he asked angrily, speeding up their joined hands.

Up. Clench. Down.

"Look at me, Hermione," he demanded once more. "Open your eyes."

Up. Clench. Down.

This time she obeyed, meekly glancing up at his expression to try and predict his mood. She avoided his eyes though, for it was too easy to get lost in their mesmerizing depths. She needed clues to frame this experience, to understand what to expect. These were uncharted waters for her, and if his expression was any guide, the adage that still waters ran deep was becoming evident. His entire visage had changed since she had last looked upon him.

Up. Clench. Down. "Don't think. Feel," he ordered.

Up. Clench. Down. Gone was the kind and patient friend, the practiced, smooth seducer. This was raw emotion, as she had only seen in Draco's face during the war. Focused. Fierce. Angry. Determined.

Up. Clench. Down. "How does it feel, knowing you're doing this to me?"

Up. Clench. Down. Panting.

Up. Clench. Down. "How does it feel, knowing I'm this hard for you?" Their hands sped up.

Up. Down. Oh, God! She gasped as she understood his sentence. How could he so casually talk about his... his erection? She held her breath, as the words coiled around her, slithering through her mind, arousing in their explicitness. How was he so comfortable with such carnal vocabulary? They were just words -- words she had read plenty of times in romance novels, words that shouldn't sound so lewd. But just hearing him say those words would fuel enough fantasies for a year, never mind what they were doing now. Together.

Up. Down."It's you, Hermione."

Up. Down. "Doing this to me."

Up. Down. "Feel what you do to me."

Up. Down. She let her head fell forward, and he gently cradled her face in the curve of his shoulder, holding her close with his chin.

Up. Down. Their panting breaths were loud in her ear, synchronized as their hands continued moving.

Up. Down. She moaned, biting her lip harder. Trying to anchor her sensations, she clenched her empty fist tightly and swallowed the moan that threatened to break free from her tightly pressed lips.

Up. Down. "Don't," he panted, as he brought the hand that was not otherwise occupied to her face and tugged on her bottom lip.

Up. What? Confused, Hermione faltered in her movement as her teeth relinquished her lip into his capable care. What did he not want? As she tried to puzzle through what Draco had said, her hand faltered in its pumping motion. The change of pace made her realize that Draco had not been leading her hand over his length for quite some time now. In fact, his hand was not even holding hers anymore! It had been her who had been shamelessly stimulating him these last few minutes, clenching him harder and faster.

"Oh, no, no. There's no stopping now, kitten," he panted, before she could feel any guilt or shame at her actions. His hand returned, covering hers to restart the pattern where she had left off.

Up. Down. "Keep going," he grated, "as you were."

Up. Down. "Yes, that's it," he praised as her hand took over once more.

Up. Down. As soon as their rhythm restarted, he pulled his hand away.

Up. Down. Her knees pushed against the legs of his chair as she tried to close her quivering legs, to increase -- or was it release -- the pressure building in her core. The hard wood cut into her skin, but somehow it provided the needed pressure on her core.

Up. Press. Down. Press. Her hips began rocking to the rhythm they established. It felt so good, just right.

Up. Press. Down. Press. Clenching her legs in time to her strokes, Hermione dazedly looked up at him from up close, she saw his eyes shine like burning mercury in their intensity.

Up. Press. Down. Press. "Give me your passion." He stared deeply into her eyes, searching for something she could not begin to fathom.

Up. Press. Down. Press. What did Draco want this time? Thinking felt like too much of an effort. "What?" Oh, good, she had actually asked it out loud this time.

Up. Press. Down. Press. "I need it. Don't hold back," he demanded, rocking the thumb that was still on her chin against her mouth. She whimpered, locking her teeth gently onto his thumb again, worrying at it with her teeth.

Up. Press. Down. Press. "Give it to me." Give him what? His finger?

Up. Press. Down. Press. "Feel me, Hermione." She could not do anything but feel, he was saturating every one of her senses again. There was no thought, no sensation, taste, or smell that did not revolve around Draco.

Up. Press. Down. Press. Wait - was that skin her hand was rubbing now? It certainly felt different, warm suede stretched over steel. The ridges she'd felt were apparently not the material bunching up, but part of his anatomy. How could that be? Had Draco opened his pants? When? How? Feeling their hands grow slick with moisture, she tried to look down. But Draco misinterpreted the movement and stopped her face so that their lips were infinitesimally close to each other.

Up. Press. Down. Press. "Don't hide your reactions from me." Was that her trembling, or him?

Up. Press. Down. Press. "Don't be afraid." What was it that she had wanted to do? All of her concentration seemed to be focused on his mouth as he forced each word through tightly clenched teeth. She sought out his lips, trying to close the distance between them, but he adroitly avoided their joining.

Up. Press. Down. Press. "Feel me, feel us. Feel what we do to each other." To each other? But it was only her caressing him, trying to discover the intimate details of his anatomy. As her hand moved up the trembling ridges of his hardened length, she wondered if Draco could be so overcome by this simple caress that his hardened length shook so much. Or was it a practiced move designed to prolong pleasure? Before she could decide, his hand came back to guide her. Moving towards the flared head and around, they spread the moisture beading from the tip all the way down to his base, and back, with each of her strokes.

Up. Press. Down. Press. "Give me your passion," he insisted.

Up. Press. Down. Press. "I can take it."

Up. Press. Down. Press. "I want it," he groaned. His beautiful mouth was making those noises, and she could only answer with keening whimpers. Why was he speaking when those lips would feel much better against hers?

Up. Press. Down. Press. "Do you feel me, woman?" She nodded, weakly, licking her lips. Would he kiss her now?

Up. Press. Down. Press. Realizing she was focused solely on his mouth, Draco tilted her face so that they were looking into each others' eyes once more.

Up. Press. Down. Press. "I want you, Hermione."

Up. Press. Down. Press. "All of you."

Up. Press. Down. Press. "Do you hear me?" His ragged words reached her from far away. Of course she could hear him, he was right there. She nodded, reaching for his lips once more.

Up. Press. Down. Press. "Kiss me, Draco," she whispered, focusing intently on his lips. It had been hours since he had shaved, and the white-blond hairs on his face shone with the glistening droplets of sweat beading on his upper lip.

Up. Press. Down. Press. Ignoring her request, he turned slightly to avoid contact between their lips and growled, "Do you want me? Do you want this?"

Up. Press. Down. Press. When no answer was forthcoming, he shook her lightly, trying to break her out of the daze she was in. Frowning, he demanded her reply, "Answer me, Hermione."

Up. Press. Down. Press. Why was he still talking? Why wouldn't he let her kiss him? She reached with her lips again as she resorted to begging, almost incoherent, "Please, Draco, kiss."

Up. Press. Down. Press. "Oh, I'll kiss you all right," he grated. "Never fear. And more, so much more. But first, tell me you want this. Tell me you want me," he countered fiercely. Lost in the haze of mounting pleasure, she failed to react, continuing doggedly seeking his lips.

Up. Press. Down. Press. Shaking her lightly again, he ordered, "Say it, Hermione," desperately adding, "Tell me!"

Up. Press. Down. Press. She closed her eyes and she trusted him with the whispered words he was waiting for. "I want you, Draco."

As soon as she uttered her surrender, Draco stilled completely. He clenched their joined hands hard around his length, thanking Merlin and Morgana in a whisper.

Confused, Hermione peeked through her lashes to see that he had closed his eyes and thrown his head as far backwards as possible. His chest heaved as his unsteady breaths echoed in the silence. She could see his jaw clenching, and followed the movement of his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down when he swallowed. Frustrated that he'd stopped the lovely rhythm they had set, she reassured him again. That was what he wanted, right? "I want this with you Draco. I've wanted you forever, it feels like. Now, will you kiss me?"

A deep groan tore from his chest as Draco closed the distance between them and kissed her, hard. Gone was the finesse and skill of their coffee shop kiss. This kiss was pure want, a desperate need to get as close as possible to each other, to meld with each other.

Draco mated their mouths, breaching the seam of her lips with barely restrained need, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as far as it would go, again and again. He did not allow her to lead the kiss. When she attempted to reciprocate, he would nip her sharply, then soothe the sting with lapping caresses of his tongue. After a few attempts she surrendered to his expert plundering with a helpless moan. Lost to its consuming power, Hermione vaguely thought that this kiss may not have been what she was seeking, but perhaps it was what she needed.

Together, their hands contracted on his shaft in time with his tongue, making her whimper. The sound acted as a spark to dry tinder, and the conflagration of feelings grew exponentially between them.

Clench. Press. Moan. Was that her moaning? him?

Clench. Press. Moan. The sequence broke free of the measured pace they had kept and started accelerating, in time with their moans. Soon it lost any semblance of rhythm. Clench-Press-Moan. MoanClenchWhimperPressMoanClenchMoanPressMoan…

Shaking, she broke the kiss when air became a necessity, only to plead with him for something she could not name. Did she want him to never stop? To go slower? Faster? She could not think, only want.

"Please, please, Draco," she whimpered, clenching her legs spasmodically on the legs of his chair to try and assuage this desperate need. Her core throbbed in time with her heart.

"Don't," he said, harshly. She frowned, trying to figure out what he may have meant. She wasn't biting her lip this time, so what was upsetting him now?

"Don't beg me, Hermione," he panted, not letting up in the rhythm that their hands had established. Confused, she frowned as her eyes locked onto his, brown to grey.

"You never have to beg me," he explained, looking down at her dazed expression. "I know what you need, and I will give it to you."

Her doe eyes were wide open, with the pupils so dilated that there was barely any brown visible. Swooping down, Draco captured her lips in another violent kiss. Their teeth clacked against each other as he forcefully mashed their mouths together. His kiss hurt, yet it felt so right that Hermione couldn't find it in herself to mind the battering and bruising of her lips.

"I will give you anything you want," he vowed, between hard pulls of his lips. "I will be everything you need." His eyes were luminous, with barely any white visible, the pupils contracted into tiny dark points centered in the reflective silver of his large irises. She surrendered to the drugging power of his kiss, closing her eyes as he attacked her mouth relentlessly.

"You need only yield, Hermione," he grated, "yield to me." Lashing at her mouth with his tongue, Draco again did not allow her any attempt to assert herself in their kiss. He easily dominated her lips with his forceful thrusts, sucking her lips into his mouth hard, nibbling on them.

All the while, he continued shoving his bulging shaft through their clasped hands, although the frenetic pace of the kiss kicked their hands and hips out of rhythm. Their bodies careened towards completion under Draco's expert guidance, out of her control. Wracked by temblors, Hermione tore her mouth from his in an attempt to bring in air. She opened her eyes, releasing a series of mewls and whimpers that refused to be stifled.

"Yes, like that, like that," he encouraged her. "Give it to me, Hermione." He shook his damp bangs out of his face, and the movement temporarily distracted her from her sensory climb. What was he saying? Give him what? She thought nonsensically, focusing on him. Draco fairly took her breath away in this moment, with all his attention focused on what they were doing.

She moaned wantonly at the sight of him. He looked like an avenging angel of old, glowing in his single-minded pursuit of hedonistic ecstasy. His muscles bunched as they worked for their pleasure, delineated by the shirt sticking wetly to his skin. Of course Draco would even make sweat sexy! Meanwhile, she probably looked a mess. She could feel her own bangs plastered to her forehead, and cool droplets of sweat running to her temples as she panted.

"Feel me, feel us," he pleaded as he sped up their movements. Draco's voice brought her wandering attention back to the smoldering need between them. When her distraction slowed their joined hands, he jerked his hips forward, keeping their rhythm going. He welded their hands together in this race for fulfillment, thrusting his distended cock quickly back and forth through the slippery channel of their entwined fingers.

"Don't hold back. Let go." He was frowning as he panted, his mouth open, lips pulled back from his gritted teeth, almost snarling as he pushed her farther.

All she could see in her field of vision was Draco's face. Voldemort could have Apparated next to her and she would not have been able to see him, much less drag her eyes away from the glorious back-lit image that was Draco at that moment. Gone was the cool and collected Slytherin. There was little control visible in Draco's face now. He looked fey, wild, feral, driven by primal needs.

"Feel me, feel us," he repeated. Her muscles locked, her legs stretching to their maximum length, her toes extended to a point. She no longer clasped his chair, and yet the pressure on her core continued building, rhythmically stimulating her.

"I need this, Hermione. Give it to me!" He had stopped cajoling, and was now demanding. "Give in to me!" She was shaking uncontrollably, so close, so close now, her mouth open in a silent plea. Every muscle in her body was reaching, poised on the knife edge of ecstasy, straining to reach completion.

"You can't hold on forever, Hermione," snarled Draco, frustrated. "Yield to me, woman!" He was egging her onwards, sweeping her along a tidal wave of sensation.

"I want you." On that declaration, the blinding brightness took over her vision as her eyes rolled backwards. Tensing, her muscles propelled her higher as her pleasure began to bloom. Her pointed toes flexed as they left the floor, her neck extended backwards, her spine arched.

"That's it. Let go, Hermione, I got you. Come for me. Don't hold back. Give me all of you. Give yourself to me, to me."

The constant stream of his grated words was the only thing anchoring her as she reached the zenith and hung there for a timeless moment. Somehow sensing that her spiraling climb had reached the precipice, Draco abruptly stopped speaking. She held her breath, tightly wound like a spring, coiled, trembling. Expectant, panting, posed on the knife-edge of sensation, waiting for something just out of reach.

When Draco next spoke, his voice was unrecognizable. "Now, be mine!" he snarled violently.

Lightning hit. Her body understood and obeyed his command, even as her brain did not, electrifying her nerve endings. Every single muscle in her body contracted as the pleasure bowed her spine, rushing through her veins in a flood of sensation. Her climax plunged her through blinding light, forcing a soundless scream past her open lips. Time slowed down as the sensations stretched, kinesthetically morphing from physical feelings into brilliant shapes and sounds, blanketing her vision and her hearing in white. She wailed helplessly when she felt it begin to dim.

Before she could draw breath, he was following her into satiation with a desperate groan of her name.

"Yes, my Her-mi-o-ne." Their entwined hands chased the eruptions through his length, tightly aiming the hot spurts to streak her open thighs. She felt each rasping syllable as his seed lashed her sensitive skin, so close to her core.

If she could have gathered her wits, she would have felt triumphant that he was calling out her name when his pleasure burst. But her brain had shut off abruptly when he joined her, and for long moments she just was. The brightness that had seized her earlier dimmed gently, pleasantly. There were no thoughts, no expectations to fulfill, no fears, no needs or driving wants. For long seconds, she was not Hermione Granger, target of pureblood supremacists, overachiever, feminist, best friend of Harry Potter, Muggle-born witch, apprentice in charms and transfiguration. At this time she was simply a female, floating in comforting darkness, anchored by her male's presence and protection.

She had never known such a feeling of freedom, of safety, of relaxation. If this was a dream, she did not want to wake up. She was light as a feather, floating on air, happy as a child. She drifted contentedly, cast adrift from the anchoring duties and responsibilities of her daily life. The years of tension she had carried around, from after the war and even before, had melted away. Time had no meaning. Hermione reveled contentedly in this blissful sense of peace until her body's demand for oxygen could no longer be ignored.

Then, gasping, she crashed back into herself with a painful jolt.

Trying to catch her breath, she was blown away, astounded by the heights she had experienced. Her over-stimulated brain made up for the earlier peace by flashing thoughts at her faster than she could process them. Orgasm had never felt like that with her ex-boyfriends, or when she brought herself. What was it about Draco that made her feel like this? Was she magnifying everything she felt with Draco because of all these years waiting for him? Was he just that good with women?

On the heels of that thought came a sobering realization. A man that could rouse such heights of passion in a woman so effortlessly would surely grow quickly bored with her limited vanilla repertoire. What would happen to her when he left? Her eyes watered as she contemplated having to give him up, biting her lip again. She didn't want to give him up, not now, not in three months, not in a year. Rationally, she knew it was the oxytocin released at the time of orgasm that enhanced these feelings of attachment, yet she felt complete devastation at the thought of being without Draco -- ever. She tucked her head against his neck, snuggling as she breathed in deeply the wonderful scent that wafted from his overheated body.

Unaware of her emotional turmoil, Draco was recovering his breath slowly, with his cheek resting on her forehead. She thought she heard him murmur, "Finally!" as he gently leaned in and kissed her bruised lips, apologizing with little licks for the earlier roughness.

"Merlin, Hermione!" He cursed softly, whispering under his breath, "that was something else."

He hummed softly as he moved over the side of her face with tiny kisses, following the edge of her chin. His hand twisted to cup her core, over her clothing. With a gasp, she realized that he had been the one stroking her pleasure higher and higher. Her knickers and bunched up skirt must have dimmed the sensation enough for her not to perceive his fingers pushing against her. It had not been her clenching legs that had spurred her to new heights: Draco had been touching her all along, over her sodden clothing.

She sighed in appreciation of how good it felt to have his hand cupping her sensitive mons and throbbing clitoris, how reassuring it was when coupled with his kisses. With her eyes still closed, she felt Draco languidly pull her sticky arm forward. She let him manipulate her body any way he wanted, so relaxed she felt boneless. In broad, gentle strokes he lapped the thin residue of the tiramisu she had already forgotten about.

"Told you I'd clean you up," he whispered in between kisses and licks. Then he returned to her face, reverently kissing her mouth, painting her lips with the residual sweetness of the dessert. While he kissed the corners of her mouth gently, his hand released hers to tuck himself back in.

"Tell me true, Hermione," he asked in a rough whisper, pushing her face gently away from the cradle of his neck. "Do you know now if you liked this?"

She huffed in response. Draco's mood swings were so unpredictable and quick she could barely keep up. Whatever she had been expecting him to say, this wasn't it. She slowly opened her eyes, to find him looking down at her with a smile so tender it robbed her of breath.

"Do you still wonder if we're compatible, kitten?" he asked, teasing softly.

Feeling vulnerable and trying to protect her fragile emotions, she concentrated on the floor as she retorted, "What do you want me to say, Draco?"

"That you liked what we did," he answered promptly, tilting her chin up. The adorable smile she had spied before shone on his face, transforming his handsome face into that of a breathtaking Raphaelite angel. "That we're good together. That you want more of this. Because I know for sure I want more of you, more of this, and I want you to be sure too."

Blushing, she ducked her head under his neck once more and nodded as she confessed, "It was good, Draco. More than good. I never knew it could be like this."

"Told you so, didn't I?" A rueful chuckle rumbled through his chest. She looked up, surprised at the change of mood to see him happily smirking. "And just think of how much better we'll get to be with practice!" Shaking her head, she huffed a warm laugh as she snuggled against his neck.

His eyes swung to focus on her thighs. "I knew my seed would look good on you," he whispered provocatively.

Shocked, she reared back to gape wide-eyed at him. Draco was giving her the most mischievous look she had ever seen. His sinful smirk taunted her, making her frown at barely recalled arguments. Kicking her brain into gear brought their earlier conversation to the fore. This was his way of ensuring she knew that coating her with his seed was intentional. He had consciously wanted to come on her, otherwise the protective spells they had discussed would have kicked in and Evanesco-ed it the moment his seed left his body. Why? Why did he want his seed on her, when they could have avoided all this mess?

While she thought this through, he had brought his hands to her thighs. Moaning softly when he touched his spilled seed, he trailed his fingers through it as if painting patterns on her skin. He reached the edge of her skirt, fingering the material softly as he snuck his fingers underneath it. The smell of his spunk reached her nose: it was a loamy scent, reminding her of days walking by the seashore, yet fresh, like just-mowed grass fields baking in the sun. There was also a chemical component to the smell, like that of brand new parchment paper. She tried to remember if her ex-boyfriends' semen had smelled anything like this, and almost missed what he was saying.

"Want a taste?" he asked, as his fingers tickled her wetly. "Or would you like me to clean you up?" He waggled his eyebrows playfully. "I think I've shown you how good I am at cleaning up after myself, Miss Granger. I won't even need a towel!"

Oh, God! Was he blatantly suggesting he would lick his own come from her thigh? That should have been disgusting, but it wasn't, it was arousing. Blushing violently, Hermione shook her head weakly and closed her eyes.

Draco chuckled heartily at her bashfulness and leaned in to lap gently at her mouth as his fingers continued their wet skating up and down her leg. The kisses he bestowed on her now were reverent, careful, gentle, cherishing. Little echoes of electrical jolts zapped and zinged through her over-exerted nerves as he drew on her skin, but the kisses he bestowed on her now were reverent, careful, gentle, cherishing. It was simultaneously comforting and seductive, and Hermione allowed herself to slip once again into a blissfully relaxed state of being.

So, how was their first shared orgasm? If you have a moment, please review and let me know what you think of it - feel free to rate the hotness, smuttiness, sexiness, and romance. I would love to know your thoughts on it!

And, as usual, a question for you to ponder: Why do you think Draco wanted to have his seed on her skin?

Let me once again thank UnseenLibrarian for all her support and encouragement, in addition to all the Beta-Reading!

Lastly, I leave you with a quote: "Oh, the comfort -- the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person -- having neither to weight thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away." -- Dinah Craik, A Life for a Life, 1859
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